Epilogue  Rewritten
by EvilDraconian
Summary: This is my own take on how the series should have ended. It is, however, only the epilogue and thus you can extract for yourself what happened during the King's Cross chapter, and all that followed that part of the story.


19 years later…

A weary student sighed inwardly as she climbed the last few stairs and straightened up to take her bearings. The classroom numbers were far from the one she was seeking, and she began to feel the first prickling of panic. This was no way to start first year.

"My mother will be furious if she finds out I got lost, and after all those sessions spent on learning the routes of Hogwarts! This place changes far too much," thought the anxious girl, inwardly moaning. "And to think my father is the headmaster! If I show up late, what would he say? What would the other professors say?"

This latter thought spurred her forward up another flight of stairs, passing a procession of tutting paintings, whose inhabitants disapproved of such a display of tardiness. Ignoring them with a haughty air inherited from her mother, Vivian took the last few steps in longer strides to buy her some time.

"I must be close… I have to be close," she muttered once she'd reached the next floor. Looking around apprehensively, she rounded the corner of the corridor at a jog. In her haste, the tiny girl stumbled through a ghost; the rumours of the other students back at the welcoming feast appeared to be dreadfully true.

A chill ran down her spine and she shuddered, but felt that such a display of unease might upset the ghost. Turning with her eyes cast downward, she turned bright red and mumbled an apology.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch that. Hearing's not what it used to be." The ghost chuckled to himself.

Timidly, the girl looked up at the silvery spectre and was just as surprised to see how young the ghost looked as he was to see the brilliant emerald hue of her eyes.

"I-I said I was sorry. You know… for passing through you in such a rush a-and for almost continuing on as though it never happened." She repeated, in a clear, gentle voice.

"Ah, not to worry! Though it's been quite a few years, I'm afraid I'm still adjusting to this whole post-life business." The ghost smiled warmly and Vivian felt her initial chills subsiding.

Indeed, while many of the other ghosts wore clothes of eras long past, this one wore an outfit which more closely resembled what the other older students were wearing, which meant his death could hardly have occurred more than a fraction of the time of the other ghosts. Though he was silver, she could tell that his eyes must have been a lighter colour than an ordinary brown. Gazing up at his smoky face, she noticed something on his forehead; it appeared to be a smudge, but she was too embarrassed to point it out. Besides, he was dead, how could he clean off something he couldn't really touch?

"I must enquire as to why you are wandering the halls when classes are about to begin! Alone too, I might add. Wouldn't want Headmaster Longbottom to catch you out here, would you?" The ghost teased, but immediately regretted it when the girl turned, if possible, a deeper shade of red.

"It's my first year… I got lost. I'm supposed to be in Professor Chang's class, for Charms." She replied, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Ah yes. I know her well. You ought to go down the west corridor though. It's the fourth door to your left."

Relief and gratefulness spread across the face of the youngster, and she blurted overly-enthusiastic thank-yous before turning in the proper direction.

"I must say though, your hair is a very brilliant shade of red. I know that colour very well. Are you related to the Weasleys?" The soft voice of the young ghost called from behind her.

Vivian turned slowly to gaze at the floating man.

"Why yes, I am."

* * *

_ His mind raced with excitement.__ Finally this day had come! Surely she was a Weasley! And if his calculations were correct, she would likely be connected with his best friend, Ron Wea-_

"My mother is Ginny Weasley, though I suppose now she'd be Ginny Longbottom. Do you know her? I'm quite sure you know my father, the headmaster." _The girl beamed._

_ His mind exploded with a sensation quite reminiscent of the times he shared strong feelings and thoughts with the late Tom Riddle. That bright smile was shining with the same charismatic charm as Ron's sister, Ginny. That was why he'd felt such an eerie sense of connection when she'd passed through him. She was the daughter… the daughter of…_

"Of course! I should have known! You have her very same hair, and the same strong nose." _His smile felt forced, and hoped it didn't appear that way. He suddenly reached out as though to place his hand upon her head, but suddenly remembered what he was and instead swung his hand up to his face as though pondering, and asked, _"What would be your name then, my dear?"

"Vivian Lily Weasley. I'm sorry, but I really need to go now. It was really nice meeting you though!" _She'd forgotten to get his name._

_ He was not__ angry. He was not jealous. Yet his heart felt as though it had been rent in half with both joy and sorrow all at once. If he'd had a physical body, his chest would have tightened in agony and he might have let out a cry of remorse. But he did not, and so the ghost of Harry Potter watched as that cascade of fiery hair trailed after the running figure, a figure that grew from the only girl he had loved with a passion as fierce as her strength, and a pearly tear staggered out of his eye, as Vivian had into his life._


End file.
